


the smell of our bedsheets

by SeeCee



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3462632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeCee/pseuds/SeeCee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter rejects Edmund after they fall out of the wardrobe. Now Edmund must deal with loving and losing someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the smell of our bedsheets

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Простынь аромат](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6074449) by [eivery_al](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eivery_al/pseuds/eivery_al)



The boy with the black hair is lying on his bed. A simple bed. The dark brown of oak wood with white bedsheets. A pillow and blanket pushed up and wrinkled on the head and end of the bed, blue-striped. He is lying on his back, one knee propped up, one hand, the right hand, over his head. The other one fiddling with a loose thread on his shirt right down by his hip. He is looking up at the ceiling, dark eyes fixed on no particular spot. He has been lying on the bed ever since he came home from school, it'll be time for dinner soon and his sister will call him down any time now. He sighs and follows the bumps of the ceiling with his eyes and he is thinking of a name, of a face, of hands and bodies and of a feeling they call melancholia.  
There is a boy with dark hair and dark eyes lying on a bed in his relative's house and he is thinking about love.

"Edmund!" Lucy calls "Come down, dinner's ready!"  
Edmund takes in a deep breath, rolls to the side, lets his legs slide off the edge of the bed and heaves his upper body into an upright position.  
Surveying the room and its rather messy state, especially Eustace' part of it, if he might add. He scratches his head lightly, smoothing down the strands of hair that are a little tousled and thinks that Peter would have never let their room get this chaotic.  
Back in their house in Finchley Peter's and Edmund's room had always been perfectly orderly, maybe not always particularly clean but nothing ever lay around for longer than an hour and that had certainly not been due to Edmund.  
Peter had always been the one to make sure that everything was in its place and that neither their mother nor Susan had any reason to complain.  
If he comes to think of it, there had really only been one time when he had seen Peter's room in disarray and that had been back in Cair Paravel, the first time they had been to Narnia.

It had been two month after their first kiss, after two month of separation. Edmund in Calormene finding Prince Cor and Peter up north fighting the Giants. When Peter had come back it was with many dark bruises and scraps littering his skin. A deep cut along his lower back, down along his left bottom cheek. Edmund had kissed the resulting scar a many, many times in the years to come.  
But when Peter had come back like that, he hadn't been the only wounded and among all the blood and confusion of the returning army they hadn't been able to spare a moment to properly greet each other. Not even to say 'I'm glad you're back. I missed you.' The only thing that passed between them had been a short glance before being pulled away by their subordinates.

So it happened that by nightfall when everything had been more or less sorted out and Edmund had done the last of his duties for that day, he ventured up to Peter's chambers. Not even for any particular reason, he just wanted to make sure Peter was there in his bed and safe. He didn't even knock, just opened the door partly to peek inside. Except for the moon shining through the window the room was completely dark and Edmund couldn't make out a shape inside the bed so he stepped fully inside the room, only to realize that Peter stood by the balcony, bare-chested with his back to Edmund.  
But Peter must have realized someone was there because he turned around and looked at Edmund. Just looked.  
Edmund had then opened his mouth to say something but for some reason his throat closed up and his eyes started to sting and he only managed to choke out a "Peter" before Peter himself took long strides across the room and took Edmund's face in his hands, kissing him hard. Over and over he kissed his mouth, his eye-lids, his nose, his forehead, all the while murmuring his name, whispering it like a prayer and Edmund could do nothing but hold onto Peter for dear life. Neither of them had said much else for the rest of the night.  
They had then spent the following three days holed up in Peter's room and made quite a mess out of it.

"Edmund!" Lucy calls again from downstairs, a slightly annoyed edge to her voice.  
"Coming!" Edmund shouts, taking a last look at the clothes strewn across the floor before making his way downstairs, his hands and teeth clenched.

"Edmund?" comes a hushed whisper out of the dark, "Are you awake?"  
Edmund resists the urge to roll his eyes at Eustace, not that he could see it in the dark anyway.  
"Yeah." he answers curtly. Ever since Eustace had been with Lucy and Edmund to Narnia, the siblings relationship to their cousin had steadily improved but so had these midnight chats. Which often circled around rather weirdly (Do you think pigeons have feelings?) to horrifyingly embarrassing (Have you ever touched yourself... down there?) questions that Eustace could apparently ask no one else. At these times Edmund always catches himself wishing Eustace and him would go back to hating and mostly ignoring each other.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?"  
Edmund swallows.  
"Uh... yeah."  
"Seriously?"  
"Once or twice, yeah."  
They were silent.  
"You?"  
"Oh yeah, loads of times."  
"Ah."  
They fell mute again.  
"To be honest, I haven't actually yet, uh... kissed anyone, that is." Eustace confesses timidly. "I mean it's probably completely overrated anyway, right? There is nothing special about it."  
"It is." Edmund hears the words coming out of his mouth, "It's the best feeling in the world being able to kiss the one you l- to kiss someone dear to you. Even if it's just a quick peck in the morning." He can feel the heat creeping up his face "There is nothing like it."  
Eustace shuffles in his bed for a moment before stilling again.  
"Lucy told me about the first time you went to Narnia. She said you lived there for over a decade until you were all grown-up."  
Edmund doesn't say anything to that.  
"Were you in love with someone then?" Eustace asks cautiously.  
Edmund takes in a breath.  
"Yes, you could say that."  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
"Not really." he utters and turns to lie on his side, his back facing Eustace.  
He doesn't want to talk about it. He doesn't even want to think about it.  
It hurts, he thinks, holding his own hand, It hurts too much.

"Ah children, there you finally are. I've got a letter from one of your siblings." Aunt Alberta holds the letter out for Lucy to take after she stripped off her boots.  
"Thank you, Aunt Alberta." she says, smiling winningly. "Would you like us to help prepare dinner?"  
"If you don't know anything else to do with yourselves then I suppose you may." she drawls.  
Edmund rolls his eyes, he can't understand why his sister still tries to get along with their aunt. She obviously couldn't care less for them.  
"Who's the letter from?" inquires Eustace, hanging up his coat.  
Lucy turns around to them, inspecting the envelope.  
"It's from Susan again!" she smiles excitedly, "Maybe it's the news of her engagement!"  
"Heavens, please let that only be a joke." mutters Edmund glumly.  
"Oh come on, Ed, you're not scared that Susan will be married before you again, are you?" she laughs but halts abruptly at Edmund's closed off expression.  
"Sorry, I didn't mean-"  
"It's fine." Edmund cuts her off, "I'll just go wash myself up a bit and be right back to help with dinner."  
"Edmund!" Lucy calls after his retreating back. Eustace shoots her a curious glance.

It doesn't matter, he tells himself, splashing water in his face. It doesn't matter what happened there because now we're here and nothing's changed. I'm just a child.  
Edmund looks at his reflection in the mirror. The water running down his cheeks like tears, the sharp edge around his mouth and the hard look in his eyes.  
It doesn't matter.  
The knuckles on his hands turn white.

Susan did not announce her engagement, in fact she did not mention the handsome officer with one word.  
"Must have lost interest." offers Eustace.  
"I bet there are a dozen other officers charming her already" jokes Lucy.  
"Yes and that is precisely the reason why she lost interest in any of them." concludes Edmund.  
The siblings snicker to one another, ignoring Aunt Alberta's pursed lips. Uncle Harold is as usually hiding behind the newspaper, oblivious to his surroundings.  
"Does your brother never write?" asks Eustace, still reading over Susan's letter of which he had formerly always pretended not to be interested in.  
Edmund tenses slightly, taking a forceful bite off his fork and ignoring Lucy's concerned glance.  
"Peter has probably nothing to tell, you know? He's busy studying."  
"So he's not even wondering how you are doing?"  
"I'm sure Susan sends him letters and mentions us in a line or two. Otherwise he'd have surely telephoned us."  
"Eustace, darling, take more of the broccoli." Aunt Alberta cuts in, shovelling a mound of the vegetable on Eustace' plate.  
"I've read an article this morning that it is full of iron and potassium and with your-"  
Edmund usually zones out at his Aunt's lengthy and excruciatingly boring monologues of vegetable nutrition facts.  
He thinks about the stationery under his mattress instead. The one with seven, eight, twelve versions of a letter he will never send.

Every time there is a letter in the mail for Lucy and him, he turns away and holds his breath until he hears 'It's from Susan!' and pretends not to feel how his heart stutters and his lungs ache.  
Every time there is a letter in the mail and it's from Susan he excuses himself early from dinner to be alone in his and Eustace' room, goes to sit on the bed and gets the paper out.  
Then he stares for a while on the blank paper and the pen in his hand before starting to write everything down that is on his mind and heart.  
Letters full of anger and accusations, of bitterness and questions, of understanding and acceptance and always, always of longing and heartbreak.  
Which is the exact reason why he's never actually sending them. He simply can't. Because he knows he'd regret it, because Peter doesn't deserve this, not really. Because Edmund is just a child and it doesn't matter.  
He doesn't write a letter this time. He can't see clearly and there are a lot of wet spots on the paper. Someone is sobbing.

"I kissed Jill Pole!"  
Eustace comes barging into the room, slamming the door behind him and leaning, palms flat, against it, breathing frantically and looks at Edmund as if he expects to hear police sirens any second now.  
"...Okay?" offers Edmund who sits at the desk, doing his algebra homework.  
"I can't believe I did that." Eustace brushes a hand over his face and walks over to Edmund.  
"What happened?"  
He slumps down onto his bed, grabs a pillow and clenches it between his chest and thighs.  
"We were just walking along the prehistoric wing of the museum and we came to the life-size skeleton of their triceratops, which was quite a remarkable beast actually, did you know for example that his horn-"  
"Eustace." Edmund raises his eye-brows. "Get to the point."  
"Well yes, of course. So the triceratops is by far my favourite dinosaur and... and..."  
Eustace goes red.  
"And?"  
"And it's hers too." he mumbles.  
Edmund starts to laugh.  
"So you kissed her?"  
"Essentially, yes."  
"Well did she kiss you back?"  
"No... yes... I'm not sure, really."  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  
Eustace mumbles something into the pillow, avoiding Edmund's eyes.  
"What was that?"  
"I ran away!" Eustace practically shouts.  
"You ran away? After kissing her?"  
Eustace let himself fall backwards and groans out a "Yes."  
"Oh boy, ... and what are you going to do now?"  
"How am I supposed to know?" he whines, crawling to the side and looking up at Edmund. He really does look pathetic.  
"It's all your fault really, you know?"  
"My fault?" Edmund asks incredulously. "What have I got to do with any of that?"  
"After you told me there is nothing like it and It's the best feeling in the world! I couldn't stop thinking about it and Jill is so very intelligent and amazing and also really pretty and I just... stopped thinking for a second and in the next moment I look into her bewildered eyes and run out of the museum and all the way home."  
Eustace begins to thrash. "Ugh! What do I doo?"  
Edmund chuckles lightly.  
"You know this does kind of remind me of my first kiss."  
"Yeah? And what did you do?"  
Edmund chews on his lip, smiling a little.  
"After a moment of confusion and awkward silence I did get kissed back. Several times."  
"Seriously?" Eustace looks hopeful. "And then?"  
Edmund's expression darkens and he turns back to his maths homework.  
"I became a child again."

This night Edmund can't find sleep.  
His mind busy replaying long gone moments over and over again. Moments that had no reason being a part of his life in England. Moments he doesn't want to think about. Moments that make his heart clench and his breathing difficult.

"Are you sure you've got everything prepared now?"  
He asked while forcefully shoving another set of clothes into the linen bag, his eyes searching the room for anything else he might have forgotten.  
"Edmund." Came a playful chuckle from Peter who looked up from the parchment he was studying.  
"I'm just saying. We don't want our High king come galloping back in a panic because he'd forgotten his toothbrush."  
"That was one time!" Peter said not without a smile, getting up. Edmund wasn't smiling, he was barely paying attention to what Peter was saying, his mind going through the check list for the nth time.  
"Edmund." Peter said. Low and far too close. His hand gently laying over Edmund's, stilling it.  
And there it was again. It's been there for weeks, months. Edmund looked up to Peter, their eyes met and he was sure he could read the same uncertainty in them as in his own. He swallowed.  
"This is not the first battle I'll be fighting. It'll be okay."  
"Not a battle." Edmund murmured.  
"Hm?"  
"It's a negotiation, not a battle."  
Peter smiled. "Yes." he agreed, even though they both knew it was just to humour Edmund.  
"I should probably leave you to your rest now." Edmund conceded after a moment.  
"Probably." Peter said. His hand warm over Edmund's.  
And Edmund thought about every laugh and secret smile in the last months, every touch and every caress, about every word and every look and he watched Peter's tongue swipe over his lips.  
And Edmund... Edmund had always been a coward.  
"Good night, Peter." He said quietly.  
Peter's expression faltered almost imperceptibly.  
"Good night, Edmund." His hand fell back to his side. The place on Edmund's hand felt strangely incomplete.  
Edmund turned around and walked back to the door, Peter did not watch him go. He gripped the door handle and only had to press it down.  
Just press it down, he thought, Just press it down.  
He was halfway through the room before he even realized he had moved, clutched on Peter's shoulder and turned him around.  
"Ed-? Wha-?"  
Their teeth clashed and their lips didn't quite align, Edmund more or less clawed his fingers into Peter's shoulder. It was a horrible first kiss and Peter didn't even kiss back...  
Peter didn't even kiss back!  
Instantly Edmund let go of his brother, his face pale as death.  
"So- I'm so sor- I gotta- " He couldn't get the words out properly, his heart was beating like a jack-hammer and he didn't dare look into Peter's eyes. Could he really have been so wrong?  
He turned to go one more time, practically fleeing to the door, grabbing the cool handle, but then he was flipped around with his back pressed to the door.  
The last thing he saw was Peter's determined look on his face before Edmund closed his eyes and his brain went to mush.  
This kiss was a proper one at least. Peter tilted Edmund's head up a little, taking control of their movements. It was rather chaste at first, just their lips pressed onto one another but then Peter's tongue came out and swiped over Edmund's lower one, eliciting a moan. Their tongues started to tangle and fight. Edmund felt light-headed and with his next whimper Peter slipped a leg between Edmund's. Providing delicious friction for him and drawing out a more forceful moan.  
Peter drew his tongue back then, giving Edmund a few light kisses before burrowing his head in Edmund's neck and enveloping him with his arms. Edmund's arms were slung around Peter's shoulders still and the two were evenly rocking into each other, soft moans filling the air.  
"Edmund." Peter breathed brokenly.  
"Yeah." Edmund's hand found Peter's hair and he tugged lightly on it, bringing Peter's face back to his. Wanting to kiss him more, wanting to kiss him always.  
They were moving their lips lazily over each others and while Edmund was most certainly hard, as was Peter undoubtedly, this was still too fragile and exciting to take this whole step right now.  
Peter's hands came up to frame Edmund's face and his leg disappeared. He kissed Edmund a few more times before both of them opened their eyes and started to smile unabashedly at each other.  
"Good night, Ed."  
Peter kissed him one last time, carrying a promise of many more kisses to come before letting his hands fall and stepping out of Edmund's personal space.  
"Good night, Pete." Edmund said softly. His lips felt swollen.

When Edmund woke up the next day Peter had already departed but there was a letter on his bed stand.  
"I know I packed everything but there is still one thing I'll be missing."

 

"Edmund, come on, wake up. You'll be late at this rate."  
Edmund groans into his pillow. He feels exhausted and tired and he can't remember falling asleep.  
Eustace rummages around the room until he finally leaves and Edmund turns onto his back, not opening his eyes, just lying there.  
"Edmund!" Lucy yells from downstairs "Get up!"  
Damned Eustace, always ratting, he thinks but rubs at his eyes, yawning and starting slowly, sloooowly to get ready.  
He doesn't feel like going to school but then lately he doesn't feel like anything really. The only thing which he thinks worse than dealing with everyday life was not doing it and instead just lying around, sulking. He wouldn't let himself succumb to that. Not often, anyway.

For the duration of time Lucy and Edmund would stay with their aunt and uncle they would also go to Eustace' experimental school. From the first day on they had known that this had to be the most horrible institution for children in all of England.  
After having gone there for two weeks they finally understood how Eustace ended up the way he had before going to Narnia with them. Edmund and Lucy were one year apart and one more year from Eustace and Jill. They never really talked much with her but Edmund liked her well enough. Lucy and her were somewhat friends from what he gathered. Edmund had at first expected it to be pretty weird to go to school with girls but he ended up being rather indifferent to it, it had been harder growing up with two sisters than being in a class with them. Being the new boy had only brought some unwanted attention if at all.  
A lot of the girls, from younger to older, often giggled when he passed them in the hallways which unnerved him but he mostly ignored it. The other boys in turn ignored him. He didn't mind.  
It was only after about three weeks attending the school when he was sitting in the cafeteria, eating an apple and reading Macbeth, that the whole situation gotten kind of out of hand.

"Hi, may I sit?"

Edmund didn't respond at first because no one ever talked to him except for Lucy who was home with a cold. When he did look up it was into Lillian's, or Gillian's?, friendly smiling face.

"Oh, eh, sure."  
"Thank you."

He had smiled dumbly at her because he had no idea if he was supposed to strike up a conversation or if he could just keep reading. In the end she had taken care of it. She had asked him about how he liked it here, who the girl was that usually sat with him and a number of other friendly, mindless questions. Not that Edmund minded talking to her but he would also not have minded to be left alone.  
Lillian, not Gillian, kept talking to him all the way back to his classroom, all the while telling him about a new film playing in town that he should check out and that she also planned to see. It took the school bell to ring thrice and the teacher walking past them before she decided it might be time for her to go to her own class.

At break the next day he had decided not to push his luck and went to find a nice shaded place under a tree, instead of sitting in the crowded cafeteria all by himself.  
It didn't took ten minutes before someone called his name. Edmund half expected it to be Lillian but instead it was a group of about five boys all from his class.  
Edmund sighed inwardly, he had been afraid this would happen. They advanced to him, he didn't get up.

"You Edmund Pevensie?" one of them asked with a gruff voice. It took Edmund everything he had not to roll his eyes at them, hadn't they just called him by his name?  
"Yes, I am. What can I do for you?"  
"How about you don't play so arrogant?" a boy with light brown hair had threatened.  
"Forgive me for merely wondering how I could might be of service to you."  
"You better watch your mouth, you... pig!"  
Edmund couldn't help but almost laugh out loud at this. The kids at this school were beyond any help. He conceded himself to the inevitable outcome of this... conversation and got up.  
"Look, I can't help you if you won't tell me what you want, okay? So if you don't-"  
He hadn't actually expected for them to punch him without so much as a warning but there he was, holding his painfully throbbing jaw.  
Okay, that's it! he had thought. You don't just punch your opponent out of fucking nowhere, much less a king!  
But he had forgotten that he was not a king any more, not even a man. He was just a child. Even now at sixteen, he was still pretty scrawny, his muscles not yet developed for a proper fight.  
And he didn't have his sword. And he didn't have Peter. Not by his side. Not with him. Not at all.

Even though Lucy was very sick, she jumped out of bed when she saw Edmund coming into her room. A bleeding, swollen lip, bruises on his left eyes and right hand, slightly limping.  
"You should see the other ones." he joked but Lucy did not smile, applying healing cream onto his hand.  
"You'll survive it, Edmund." she said. "One day you'll be okay. I'm sure of it."  
He didn't know why his vision was swimming all of a sudden.

The next time the boys came to him he told them out right that he had no interest in Lillian and that they could tell her that themselves for all he cared. Then one of them timidly asked him how he got her to talk to him so easily and when they wouldn't believe that she was the one who approached him in the first place, he told them to man up and just go talk to her.  
They all went beet red at that and began to stutter unintelligibly. Just the thought of actually talking to a girl send them into a mindless panic, so Edmund made them practice on Lucy, who was all too willing to help because. She had always been the greatest advocate of love and was secretly happy because it seemed to take Edmund's mind off of things.  
When consecutively all five of them fell in love with her, she was not so happy any more. Edmund finally had to play angry, big brother and put his foot down to get them to back off.  
Which then ignited Lillian's interest in him in an even more ferocious way.  
Jack, the tallest of them asked him one day if he really had no interest in her and when Edmund slowly shook his head Jack looked at him for a long moment.  
"Are you in love with someone else then?"  
"Unfortunately." Edmund replied, sipping the last of his soda and throwing the empty bottle to an overflowing bin.

 

They've been at this school for a little over two months and Lucy made a few friends in her class, after they stopped perceiving her friendly and open nature as a threat and learned to open themselves up as well. Edmund usually spends his time with Jack and the other guys. They fell into an easy routine, out of which they of course would still be able to break out of any second, should that letter ever come, that is.  
One chilly summer day Edmund doesn't feel like eating with the others so he recedes to the now familiar spot behind the gym where he would be hopefully undisturbed. Just him and whatever book he is reading at the time. With the warm sun shining on him and the easy breeze flowing he doesn't open his book, instead just closes his eyes, soaking in the sun rays and letting his mind wander.  
Thinking about the homework he still has to do, what Susan and his parents might be doing right now, how Peter's study was coming along, Peter... Peter... always Peter. And for the first time in a long while he allows himself to think of happier times without feeling guilty and without trying to ban those memories away. Accepting and embracing the sting of loss he always feels when he indulges these memories. Feeling the pain meant it was real. All of it.  
Somebody rasps and pulls him from his thought. He blinks and holds his hand to his forehead to block out the sun and looks into the face of some nameless girl he doesn't recognize.  
"Are you Edmund Pevensie?" she asks with an annoyed tint to her voice.  
"Uuuh" he starts and she raises her eyebrows as if she wants to say something demeaning about his intelligence.  
"Yes." he answers hastily "Yes, I am, what can I-"  
"Do you have a girlfriend?" He chuckles at her blunt, unemotional way of asking.  
"No." he laughs, moving his right hand into the air "I'm marr-" the words catch in his throat and he coughs slightly, letting his hand fall in the process.  
"No, I... I don't."  
The girl only looks at him as if that misshapen gesture did not go past her at all.  
"I see." and without any further explanation she turns around and marches off. Edmund watches her go with a bewildered expression. The girl walks up to two wildly giggling girls who in turns take a peak over her shoulder at Edmund and then run inside after realising that Edmund is watching them.  
Being left alone again he looks down at his right hand, at the base of his ring finger and found it looking unexpectedly ordinary and he doesn't feel a pang of loss at all.  
He gets up to find Lucy.

"Will you marry me?"  
Edmund spit out the wine he just took into his mouth.  
"Excuse me?" he spluttered.  
"Will you marry me?" Peter said again, undeterred.  
Edmund stared at him, flabbergasted. When Peter did not seem to have any intention of elaborating on his question, Edmund blinked a few times.  
"I... that... what?" he asked, his brow furrowing "Where did this come from?"  
"It's only natural, is it not?" Peter started, ignoring Edmund's snort and continued "We've been together for almost three years. Susan didn't even know Hadrian for one before they got married."  
"Very well," Edmund began, now taking his fork and knife back up. "But you have to realize that their situation and ours is quite different."  
"How?"  
"How? Well first of all we are both male and more importantly we are brothers, Pete. The Narnians might accept us but what about our neighbouring countries?"  
"That doesn't matter."  
"How can you say that doesn't matter?"  
"I love you, Edmund. That is all I know and-"  
"Peter." Edmund said, blushing.  
"No, let me say this. It does not matter to me because Susan married the one she loved, why shouldn't I be able to do the same? What the others think, what anyone else thinks doesn't matter because I want to be with you. Don't you want to be with me?"  
"Peter." Edmund said again and Peter got up, walking over to him and taking his face in his hands.  
"Don't you want me?" he asked quietly.  
Edmund's hands came up to lie over Peter's and he turned his cheek, pressing it into Peter's palm.  
"Yes, I do. I want you more than anything."  
"Good." Peter said then and kissed Edmund.

Their wedding went from a small ceremony with only the closest of friends to one of the biggest events in the whole of Narnia's golden age, It would have only been bigger if Aslan himself would have wed them.  
Instead it was Lucy's dear Mr. Tumnus who did the honour, with the Beavers as ring-bearers and Lucy grinning on Peter's side and Susan on Edmund's.  
It was the happiest day of his life. Kissing Peter then who was his brother and best friend, then his king and lover and then finally his husband. And Peter, being Peter, of course had to tip him back bridal style and give him a sound kissing, with the crowd cheering and hollering that it made Edmund's ears ring and become pink up to the tips of them. The only reason his body did not sack down like a bag of potatoes was because Peter held his hand, so tightly that Edmund thought Peter would never let go again.  
This memory was probably the most painful one for Edmund now and also the only one he wanted to preserve forever. Even if he would forget everything else, even if one day he might forget that any of this was real, that it wasn't just a play or a dream - more than anything he never wanted to forget how it had felt to hold Peter's hand that day and how happy it had made him.

 

"Edmund?" Lucy calls from upstairs.  
"Yeah." he shouts back, hanging up his scarf and jacket. Stripping off his shoes, he hears running footsteps.  
"Oh Edmund!" Lucy says a little breathlessly but with a smile pulling on her lips. She's halfway down the stairs, a paper in her hand.  
"Look, Edmund, it's a letter! From Peter!" Her eyes grow big in excitement.  
"He's going to come stay here with us for a few days and then we'll go back home! To Finchley!"  
She bustles the last steps down and takes Edmund's hands in hers.  
"Oh Edmund, isn't it great?"  
"I'm... it's... yeah. Yeah, it is great." Lucy keeps making an encouraging nod, so he smiles.  
"I'm so excited, I already started to pack. It's unbelievable where all my belongings scattered to." she laughs. "My room is in such a mess, I better clean it up, huh?"  
She turns back around and jumps up the steps in a sort of carefree little dance, giggling all the while.  
Looking into the living room Edmund catches Eustace disgruntled stare before he looks down at his science book again. In Edmund's own hand is Peter's letter that Lucy had pressed into his palm. He walks upstairs.

The letter is short, barely a whole page. Peter would take the entrance exam for college at the end of the week and afterwards he would take the train and come right over. Susan and their parents had been in contact with him and asked him to ready their house until they came back and if Edmund and Lucy wanted they could come with him. Then there were greetings to Aunt Alberta, Uncle Harold and even Eustace and that he was looking forward to see them again. He even signed the letter with a proper signature instead of a scrawled "Peter".  
"Like a proper grown-up." Edmund mumbles.

When they tell Aunt Alberta about Peter's visit she actually smiles, saying "Is that so?" and begins to hum during dinner preparations. Lucy just grins and shrugs. But when Uncle Harold puts down the newspaper and asks to see the letter and then actually laughs at one of Edmund's jokes, the siblings throw each other slightly alarmed glances. Eustace doesn't say a word the whole evening and is the first to go to bed.  
Later when Lucy and Edmund go upstairs themselves and Edmund is about to say his good-nights, Lucy grabs the sleeve of his shirt and tugs shortly on it.  
"Are you going to talk to him?"  
For a moment Edmund looks at Lucy with a questioning expression.  
"Or should I?" and she glances towards Eustace bedroom door.  
Edmund lets out a breath and rolls his eyes.  
"Leave it to me. I'll talk to Eustace. I'm sure he's just being overly dramatic, any ways."  
"If you say so." but Lucy doesn't look as if she's so sure about that at all.  
"Good night, Ed."  
"Night, Lu."  
They both turn away and make for their rooms when Lucy speaks up one more time.  
"Oh and Ed?"  
"Yeah?"  
"You should talk to him too."  
Edmund watches her disappear up the second stairs before stepping into Eustace' room.

Eustace lays with his back to the door, blanket pulled up so far that only the barest of his hair peaks out. Edmund takes an exasperated breath and moves towards his own bed.  
Eustace does not stir once or makes any discernible sound the whole time Edmund gets ready for bed. After climbing between the sheets and getting himself comfortable, Edmund almost believes he might be gifted with one more night to spare.  
Alas, "Edmund?" comes the quiet and unsure voice.  
"Yes?" he answers, turning around to face Eustace.  
"Will you... will you really go?"  
"What? I thought you counted every miserable day we were here and only waited for us to disappear again?" he jokes but Eustace makes no sound so he continues more seriously.  
"But yeah... I suppose we will go. We've been her for almost four months. It's time."  
"I wish you wouldn't." comes Eustace reluctant reply. "I wish cousin Peter would go without you or better yet not come at all."  
"Eustace..." Edmund begins not quite knowing what to say.  
"How can you stand it?" he asks, getting more agitated. "How come you don't hate him? How is it fair that just because he was born first that everybody loves him? Even my own parents who've hardly ever met him? Why is he praised for every little thing he does? Why-"  
"Eustace, calm down." Edmund whispers.  
"He even got to be the High King while the rest of you were just regular King and Queens! How is that fair? I mean what's so special about him? You-"  
"Eustace!" Edmund's voice comes out harsher than he had intended and he takes a deep breath. Eustace stayed quiet.  
"Look, Eustace, I understand how you feel, I really do. But it's not just that Peter is the oldest, he is also the strongest and bravest and he always takes care of us. And even though he might be the High king he never made any of us feel inferior to him and if Peter had been here instead of me, he would have been a lot more patient with you than I ever was. He is the kindest person I know." Edmund concludes.  
"Although I have the feeling this is not really about Peter."  
Eustace makes no move to say anything so Edmund waits patiently until he is ready to.  
"I just... don't want him to take you away from me. I don't want you to forget me..."  
"We won't. Eustace, I promise you, we won't. We're friends now, right? We can come visit again or you could come spend the holidays with us. We won't forget."  
"Okay." says Eustace after a moment.  
And just as Edmund wants to turn around again and settle in for the night, Eustace starts one more time.  
"But don't you hate him even a little?"  
Edmund stayed quiet for a few seconds and then answers  
"He's my brother and I love him."  
I love him. I still do. After everything. I really, really do. I love him so much it's breaking my heart.

 

"Here he comes!" announces Aunt Alberta gleefully after the incoming train from London stops, spilling out its passengers.  
Lucy goes on her tiptoes to look over the messy crowd and even Eustace cranes his neck to be the first to spot his cousin. Uncle Harold stands with his hands behind his back, looking on contently. Only Edmund stays behind, leaning on a metal bar and following the lines between the bricks on the ground in a complicated pattern.  
"Peter!" comes Lucy's shrieking voice, sounding much the same as two years ago back in the professor's house. Only Peter and their Dad were able to bring out little Lucy who jumped in excitement and grinned from one ear to the other whenever they wanted. Much like right now, having run up to their brother and dangling from his neck.  
Peter... Peter is of course smiling too with his whole face lit-up like only he ever truly seemed to be able to and he clasps Lucy in a tight hug, swinging her around two, three times, both of them laughing unabashedly.  
Even Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold snicker to themselves as if they are watching the reunion of a lovesick couple.  
Peter pulls down the hat he is wearing when he approaches them. His hands holding Lucy on one side and his bag on the other. His hair has gotten a little longer again and he flicks it to the side with a quick movement of his head and then... then he sees Edmund and his smile falters a bit, making place for an expression that Edmund doesn't want to interpret, that makes the air rigid with tension and he remembers the bricks again.  
"Good to see you, nephew!" greets Uncle Harold and the moment is over.  
"It's great to be here." Peter huffs out. "Aunt Alberta you don't look a day older since the last time I saw you, I almost wondered if Susan was here too! Although I have to ask you: What have you been feeding my little siblings? I haven't seen them a few months and all of a sudden they're all grown up!"  
Everybody giggles a little at Aunt Alberta's red face and her playfully dismissing gesture to Peter.  
"It's true, though!" pipes up Lucy and at Peter's amused expression adds "Well, I don't really know about me but Edmund grew so much since we came here. He almost looks again like-" King Edmund. Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold look at her expectantly and Eustace eyes widen a little in alarm.  
"Eh, like Dad. Don't you think?"  
"Yeah." Peter says, eyes fixed on Edmund. Even though they all knew that if anyone looked like their father it was Peter himself. "He really does."  
"Well, we should get going children. Here Peter, let me give you a hand with your luggage."  
"Thank you, Uncle." All of them gather themselves up and march forward. In passing Peter slides his hand over Edmund's lowered head and through his hair.  
"By the way, Uncle, how is your ship? Still sailing?"  
"Only in a bottle now, I'm afraid."

The dinner that evening is the liveliest either of Edmund and Lucy had ever attended to since they came. Everybody told stories and laughed, the food was passed around and Uncle Harold gave everyone a glass of wine to drink, which excited especially Eustace.  
After a shared laugh at Eustace' expenses, because he was spluttering and coughing over his first taste of alcohol, Uncle Harold lets out a contented sigh which unfolds his filled belly way over his belt. Aunt Alberta smiles, glancing to the clock over the door frame.  
"Good heavens, Harold, look at the time! It's mighty time you children be in bed. You must be dead tired too, Peter." she says, already getting up and gathering the dishes. Lucy, like on autopilot, starts to help her.  
"I actually wanted to set you up in Eustace room but since someone" she gives Eustace a pointed look "didn't want to give up his bed, I am afraid I have to set you up in the living room."  
Before Peter can even speak up, Uncle Harold turns on his son.  
"Eustace. Is that any way to behave when with guests?"  
Eustace, becoming red of anger and embarrassment, splutters.  
"That wasn't what I meant! I just wondered why all of us couldn't stay in my room."  
"And where is Peter supposed to sleep? In bed with his brother?"  
At this Peter looks pretty alarmed and holds his hands up, Edmund, seated next to him, sips some more from his wine and doesn't react at all.  
"Uncle Harold, please, it's fine. I don't mind sleeping wherever is most convenient for you. I'm sure Eustace didn't say that with bad intentions. It's fine, really."  
At this Uncle Harold just grunts and Aunt Alberta gives her son an accusing look.  
Now look what you did, and Eustace goes even more scarlet.

Eustace is snoring lightly, the clock steadily ticking and Edmund groans inwardly. It's no use, he just won't fall asleep. He pushes the covers aside, shivering a little when his naked feet touch the chilly ground and then proceeds to silently make his way out of the room and downstairs. After four months in this house he is now fairly capable of finding his way through the dark.  
A few of the stair steps creak but Edmund doesn't worry much. Arriving in the living room he stills and listens. Peter's breathing is barely audible but there.  
Edmund doesn't really think he can pour himself a glass of milk without Peter waking up. He had always been a light sleeper and he knows him too well. But maybe he could prolong Peter's waking up as long as possible. He breathes once deeply in and out and tip-toes on.  
Edmund gets as far as reaching up into the cabinet to grab a glass when he hears his brother stir and mumble something, he stills. But Peter seems to have settled down again. Not that he can fool Edmund.  
Even back in Finchley, growing up together, Peter would instantly wake up when Edmund so much as opened his eyes at night, just needing to pee. As soon as he got up he would hear a sleep-drowsy "Hey, everything okay?" and he hadn't been so considerate then in trying to be quiet.  
He likes to think that in Narnia it was even worse, especially after they started sharing a bed and should have gotten accustomed to the other's movements and sounds in the night. But how often had Peter been leaning over him or cradling him, stroking his cheek and hair when Edmund startled out of a nightmare. Nightmares that used to last the whole night and torment Edmund well into the next day in form of headaches. But no longer did with Peter there. Peter to which he could turn his tear-streaked face, burrowing it in his chest and holding onto him while he'd hear him whisper "Shh, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here." Over and over again.  
Peter who is definitely awake now. Rustling with his cover while Edmund switches on the tap; taking a swig and consciously feeling the coolness run down his throat before putting the glass on the counter and wiping his palms on his pants.  
He feels chilly.  
Peter yawns. That is Edmund's sign.  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."  
"Don't worry, it's fine." His voice bedraggled.  
"It's still early, barely three o'clock, you should lie down again." Edmund mentions, taking up his glass again as Peter gets up to walk over to him.  
"I couldn't really sleep anyway." He says, reaching over Edmund to take out a glass as well. Edmund doesn't move an inch to the side but holds his breath all the same.  
"Liar." He says then over Peter turning on the tap. "You could always sleep. No matter where. It's just that you're such a light sleeper that you instantly wake up when someone moves."  
"Hmm... apparently that was just with you." He takes a swig of the water. Edmund doesn't say anything.  
"You see, Mrs. Macready had quite the time waking me in the mornings and I think even Susan and Lucy could tell you a story or two about getting me awake when you were gone on a class trip or something." and then he adds more quietly. "It's always only been you.  
Edmund's cheeks begin to burn, so he downs the rest of his water to places it in the sink.  
"Well, I won't disturb you any longer then." And he turns to go.  
"Edmund." Peter says. Quiet. Too low. Painfully familiar.  
It stops Edmund in his tracks.  
For several seconds neither of them says anything.  
"You really do look very grown-up." Peter finally says.  
Edmund freezes, turning to Peter with an icy voice.  
"Don't worry. I'm still just a child." Leaving Peter with a hurt expression behind.

The next three days went by rather fast. There were a lot of tears. Not only from Eustace but also from Lucy and her new friends. Edmund got his good-byes rather soberly over with. Only when Lillian came by to present Edmund with a farewell gift did Edmund let himself succumb to any emotional reaction at all.  
She had knitted him a scarf and he kissed her on the cheek.  
When he steps back inside the house again, he catches Peter's gaze, he must have seen everything from where he stood at the kitchen counter, arms crossed and sipping coffee. Edmund gives him a forced smile that doesn't reach his eyes and goes to put the scarf in his trunk.  
Sitting there then in Eustace' room and surveying everything that had been so hostile at first and now so familiar, Edmund can't help but reflect on how hard saying goodbye to all this could really be.  
And then he thinks about the only goodbye that still hurt, the only one except for his father leaving for war, that still mattered.  
Losing Narnia and in consequence losing Peter.

Tumbling out of that wardrobe had been the worst nightmare he ever woke up in. Because it was real. And because he didn't know, not for sure, if anything in the wardrobe had been.  
He lost everything he was, had instead been thrown back into a body and a life that was so unfamiliar it might have belonged to somebody completely else. But he was adjusting and he was surviving.  
As best as he could anyhow.  
Lucy was the first to cry. Of course. She was the youngest and never had had any qualms about showing her feelings.  
Even before Peter finished saying "You wouldn't believe us if we told you, Sir." there were tears in Lucy's eyes that spilled over and erupted in pitiful wailing a few seconds later. Susan, probably on her enhanced mother instinct, was the first to cradle Lucy in her arms and trying to hush her.  
Peter looked on helplessly and Edmund, in sheer desperation of trying not to cry himself, grabbed Peter's hand and squeezed it as hard as he could. Peter didn't squeeze back.  
For the rest of the day each of them sought out their own solitude, trying to stitch themselves back together, now that there was less and more of them than before.  
Even at dinner none of them said a word and hardly ate anything. The professor giving them sympathizing looks. Not that they noticed.  
It was only in the night when Edmund came back from the bathroom, closed the door and put out the lights, that he wandered to Peter's bed. Peter who wordlessly held open his covers and his arms for Edmund to crawl into. That night they clung to each other and cried bitter, helpless tears.  
It was the last time Edmund had a place in Peter's arms.

"We can't do this here, Ed."  
Edmund was leaning on his toes to initiate a kiss but instead watched Peter's face turn away from him.  
"What do you mean?" He asked confused, landing back on his feet.  
"You know what I mean."  
Edmund could feel his throat closing up. Peter still did not look at him.  
"Why?" he asked weakly. "Nothing changed. I still-"  
"Everything changed!" Peter turned his eyes on Edmund. The rage that had been building up since they've been back, showing clear in them.  
"This isn't Narnia any more, Ed. Why won't you understand this?"  
"I do!" He shot back, hurt by Peter's anger. "Of course I do... But even if the situation changed; we haven't. I'm still me."  
"No. You're just a child." There was a coldness in Peter's eyes and voice that frightened Edmund more than anything else lately. He had been giving Peter his space in these last few weeks. The solitude he had obviously wanted and needed but Edmund thought he had gotten better, that whatever had going on with him, he would tell Edmund and let him help.  
Tears formed in his eyes and he grabbed Peter's sleeve as he was turning away.  
"Peter, please! I love you! I love you so much! Please!"  
Peter's eyes were dead when they found Edmund's.  
"That doesn't matter."  
He left Edmund.

"Ed?" Peter pushes the door to Eustace' room open. "You okay?"  
Edmund clicks his bag shut, not turning around.  
"Yeah. I'm okay."  
He quickly wipes away the tear sitting in the corner of his eye. He is okay now and it is time to go home.

"Well I had expected worse to be perfectly honest."  
Edmund throws Peter a disbelieving glance. Lucy looks as if she is about to cry.  
Not only is there a 10cm thick dust coating on everything but one of the windows in the living-room is broken and someone must have gone through their stuff because most of the furniture is turned over and all the books and small figurines are scattered all over the place.  
Peter lets out a gush of breath.  
"Let's just... look around, see if anything's missing. Dad had warned me something like this could be the case but we took everything of value with us so I don't think they could have found much."  
"They found my chess set." Edmund is kneeling in front of a cupboard.  
"And they took it."  
Alarmed Lucy runs to her room, Peter, scratching his head, gives Edmund an unhelpful shrug and makes his way through the house.  
In the end Peter has been right though, they took only a few minor things that could easily be replaced. More problematic are some of the broken furniture and the overall disarray of the house. They will need some more money from their father to fix the place up.  
The siblings spend the rest of the day fixing what they already can but it is such a mess that they hardly make any progress. At the end of the day they have, minus the dusting, at least put the living and the children's room back in order.  
Edmund and Peter were just provisionally closing the gaping hole in the window with a big piece of cardboard and lots of tape when Lucy tentatively goes "Peeete?"  
Peter throws Edmund an amused glance, knowing the tone all too well, but Edmund doesn't notice, too focused on fastening the cardboard.  
"Yes, Lu?" Peter asks mocking her tone good-naturedly.  
"Can we sleep here today?"  
"In the living-room?"  
"Yes."  
"Why?"  
"Well... it's just... my room's still so dirty and I don't want to sleep all alone."  
Peter gives his sister a warm smile and then turns to Edmund who is now finishing up the last corner, his hand laying halfway on Peter's for steadying.  
"What do you say, Ed? Want to have a sleep-over in the living-room?"  
Edmund presses the last tape down, his hand still warm on Peter's.  
"Sure. Why not."  
Lucy and Edmund then proceed to gather the mattresses, pillows and sheets while Peter prepares the dinner, consisting of various things Aunt Alberta had packed for them.  
The two younger siblings just come in with the last of the sheets and pillows after having them thoroughly dusted outside. Peter brings in the dinner on a tray.  
They arranged the mattresses in a triangle with a low couch table in the middle on which Peter puts the tray.  
"Almost like sitting around a camp fire in Narnia again!" squeals Lucy.  
Peter gives her a fond smile. Edmund begins to dig in.  
"How amazing would it be if I'd dream of Aslan tonight?"  
"Well, as long as you won't drag us through Finchley in order to actually find him." jokes Peter.  
"I had been right, though, hadn't I? If you and Susan had believed me from the start then maybe he would have shown much earlier."  
"But then Caspian mightn't have had the chance to heroically rescue Susan and get that kiss."  
Lucy shrieks.  
"Oh Aslan, that's right, I had forgotten all about that!"  
Peter snickers into his toast, stealing a glance from under his eyelashes at Edmund, who seems completely engrossed in his own dinner.  
"Oh and what was it that you had said then, Edmund? I only remember it was something really funny." Lucy is still giggling.  
"Can't remember." Edmund answers curtly, biting forcefully.  
Lucy's brow furrows.  
"Oh... well... I guess it wasn't that important."  
They eat in silence for a moment.  
"Hey Peter, I guess it's not a fair question because you can't really compare them but what time did you prefer being in Narnia? The first or the second?"  
Peter chews thoughtfully for a second.  
"Definitely the first. We stayed so long and learned so much." His gaze wanders over to Edmund. "The best things happened during that time."  
Lucy follows Peter's eyes.  
"What about you, Ed?" she asks tentatively.  
"The second time." he bites out. "It was over fast enough that none of us could build up any illusions about who we were."  
Lucy is shocked, Peter's face betrays no sign of emotion.  
"Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom." Edmund then says, gets up and walks swiftly past them.  
He can hear them murmuring to each other before he closes the door. Probably Lucy asking if anything happened between them. Which it didn't. Nothing happened between them. Nothing should have ever happened.  
Edmund takes a deep breath, he can feel his throat closing up again and his breathing quickening. He grips the sink until his knuckles turn white and tries to concentrate on calming down. But every time he tries to close his eyes, he sees Peter's emotionless face before him.  
"Dammit, Peter!" he curses half-loud. "What are you playing at?"  
All these remarks about their time in Narnia and these implicit reminders about their relationship... is he just imagining them? Is he still so unable to get over this that he is adding more into it than there actually is? But then why... every time Peter looks at him he feels his heart clench down. After all these month of feeling so hurt and then numb, having his heart skip like that... it is impossible to just get over that again.  
Edmund sits down on the closed toilet and rubs at his eyes.  
And then just now the best things happened during that time...  
Edmund had panicked that's why he had lashed out at them. Of course he doesn't prefer the second time over the first. But the truth is...

The truth is that the second time had felt like salvation. Sweet, forgiving salvation. He hadn't even let himself hope or expect things to be just like they were before, he knew Peter far too well for that. But he felt at peace nonetheless, at least with himself. Thanks to that second time he had been able to truly forgive Peter.  
Peter who smiled and played with Edmund. Throwing water at his face and tackling him into the waves. Peter had laughed then and Edmund had almost started sobbing because Peter was laughing and Edmund had never felt so relieved and grateful for anything in his entire life.  
And he had thought to himself: I could forgive him. I could forgive him anything if only he won't stop laughing like that.  
Of course he did though. The by now annoyingly familiar grim expression back on his face scarcely half an hour later. But Edmund had told himself he wouldn't cry any more. And he didn't. Not until the end at least.  
And then there was Caspian of course. Caspian who seemed to be everything Peter wasn't any longer. He smiled readily, was kind, easy, affectionate and Edmund thought to himself: Maybe I can love someone else, eventually.  
But salvation came when Peter looked at him and told him everything he needed to hear, not with words, Edmund couldn't let him, but with just these impossible eyes. Peter had finally come back to Edmund and Edmund was saved. Peter would come back. He would always come back.  
Until he couldn't any more. It didn't occur to him then that at some point they would have to go back home. Again.  
Which was way sooner than Edmund had ever anticipated. Caspian was crowned king, Susan and Peter would never come back to Narnia and Edmund felt betrayed. Betrayed by Aslan for taking his Happy End, betrayed by Caspian for taking what Edmund felt was rightfully his, betrayed by Peter for leaving him. Again.  
But that Peter didn't come to him and told him what Aslan had done, that he didn't confide in Edmund and had instead just sprung this on him without so much as a glance in his direction, that was the most unforgivable betrayal of them all. He hadn't given Edmund any time.  
So this time it was Edmund who showed his back to Peter and who retreated into himself. This time it was Peter who had to look helplessly on as the abyss between them grew bigger and bigger.  
Edmund became bitter and he became angry and the word love started to taste foul on his tongue.

The rest of the weekend consisted of pretty much the same; dusting and cleaning. While that took long enough of it's own already, they also still needed some tools to fix up the furniture and Peter suggested painting the living-room since that was the room with the worst damage. Ultimately they decided to go buy all these things come Monday.  
Until then the situation between Peter and Edmund does anything but improve. Peter seems set on getting along with his brother as though nothing had ever happened between them, he talks and teases, makes light jokes and superficial conversation, he even keeps touching Edmund casually and increasingly.  
Edmund on the other hand, being very wary of the whole situation, doesn't trust his brother, much less himself. Of course he picks up on being supposed to act normally and that everything should be fine again. It's what he had worked towards more or less himself but for some reason... it really starts to irritate him.  
When after the first night he reasons with himself to make an effort to talk friendly and familiar with Peter he finds he doesn't know any longer how that is supposed to be like so his answers and comments stay short and civil.  
He wants to be open and kind but smiling and acting cheerful feels so forced that he keeps his stony and composed demeanour.  
Every time they are longer than two minutes alone with each other Edmund would find any even remotely plausible reason to flee the room. It has been only three days but he feels bone tired. He wonders how long it will take them to become a normal family again, if that is even possible. Maybe it will just go on like that until Peter would leave for college and Edmund would be busy with his own school stuff, during the holidays he could go on trips or maybe Peter wouldn't come home any ways, maybe he'd find a girlfriend and... Edmund swallowed hard.  
Whatever may come, he'll survive it somehow. He has to.

Eventually Monday comes around and the siblings make their way to a hardware store. During dinner last night they had made a list of what they'd need and which materials might be the best.  
Lucy and Peter are walking in front, Edmund trotting behind. They are arguing about something Lucy thinks will improve the living-room, Edmund doesn't really listen, he is staring absentmindedly at Peter's shoes, how they lift and fall down again with each step. He can't remember ever having actually noticed the way Peter walks. The way his shoulders move and the shirt stretches over his back.  
He had once been so familiar with this person, he had always thought he'd be able to recognize him just by his breathing, the way his footsteps sounded, that he'd recognize him even in blindness but right now it feels like he had never actually seen him before.  
Had Peter become a new person while Edmund had been sulking, and nurturing his wounds?  
Had Peter moved on?  
"Peter!" Edmund's voice comes out panicked. Peter and Lucy turn around so fast, looking worried, that Edmund can feel the heat rising in his cheeks.  
"We... uh... we forgot to put a tarpaulin or something like that on the list."  
Peter's brow raises in question.  
"For painting the living-room. So the floor won't get any paint on it."  
"Oh, Edmund's right, Pete."  
Peter still looks a little unsure at Edmund as if he is trying to see deeper inside of him.  
"Yeah." He says then. "Maybe we can find some old newspapers instead and lay them on the floor that hopefully won't cost us anything and we can just throw them out after."  
"Oh... yeah." Edmund agrees timidly.  
"Okay then." concludes Lucy cheerfully and marches on again.  
Peter waits for Edmund to move and falls in step with him, his hands swinging slightly by his sides. Edmund pushes his own tightly into his pant pockets.

He can't recall how the situation escalated so quickly. They were just walking into the aisle with tapestries and wall paint. Lucy had pointed to some beige tapestry and Peter had dismissed it with nothing but a wave of his hand. Lucy had looked a bit chided and something in Edmund snapped. His voice is getting progressively louder and Peter stubbornly defensive.  
“Look, I'm just being reasonable here. Maybe the tapestry would look nicer but the better decision here is the paint. Now drop it!”  
“Oh right, because you've always known what's best for all of us! Regardless, whether it killed or hurt us!”  
“No, I never knew that but someone had to make the decisions how hard they might have been! Don't think I don't regret some of the things I did, and don't you dare think you were the only one who suffered! I would have given everything for you to be happy! I gave everything!”  
“Well that worked out splendidly! I will never forgive you, Peter, never.” That's not true.  
Peter's face falls and Edmund can't stand it. His glare hardens but he turns away and goes for the exit.  
He's still fuming when Lucy comes out after him. She doesn't shout his name, just running up to him and stopping him with her hand on his sleeve.  
"Do you really think it so impossible to forgive Peter?"  
He does not look at her. "I don't know how any of this is your business, Lucy.”  
"My two brothers are behaving like two complete idiots because of how much they suffer being apart. I think it is my business."  
"No, it's not. Now mind your own shit!"  
Lucy looks at him shocked, losing her composure for a minute.  
"Just listen to yourself! Peter was right, you know? You're not the only one who suffered! All of us did, all of us had to bear their share and I'm not saying you're not justified in your anger or however you feel but the way you were behaving this last year? Unbearable, Edmund!"  
"You know I'm really not in the mood for another round of accusations and meaningless excuses." He shakes off her hand, walking away.  
"You haven't seen Peter the way I did, neither you nor Susan could or wanted to see anyone but yourselves at that time. You haven't seen Peter the way I did. Believe me Edmund, you weren't the only one who suffered."

The next two days get impossibly worse. Lucy who hates to be in a fight tries to get along with each of them as normally as possible. Peter does her the favour even if he won't smile so easily any more, from Edmund she just receives various grunts.  
Peter and Edmund aren't talking at all. At any given moment they would be at the exact opposites of the house, they are eating at different intervals and Edmund began to sleep in his old room again. Peter stayed with Lucy in the living-room but at night he was so restless that Lucy might as well slept in her own room, she wouldn't have gotten a wink of sleep either way.  
She knows Peter wants to talk but she refuses to open up the conversation herself and Peter obviously can't bring himself to either. She is sorry for her brothers because she knows they suffer still in their own ways but she is adamant to leave them to themselves, Edmund had taught her that lesson.

"Peter? I'll be off, yeah?"  
"Off where?" Peter asks, poking his head from the kitchen into the living room.  
"I told you about it yesterday! Don't you ever listen?"  
Lucy sighs at Peter's apologetic face.  
"I met Sarah and Diane yesterday at the grocery store! We decided to meet, catch up."  
"Sarah and Diane?"  
"Yeah."  
"And you'll meet them today?"  
"In ten minutes, yes."  
"How long d'you think you'll be gone?"  
"Gosh, I don't know. Let's say the whole day."  
"The whole day?" Now Peter comes walking towards her, in his arms a bucket of paint.  
"Lucy, we wanted to paint today!"  
"I know." Lucy says. "But they're my best friends whom I haven't seen in forever."  
"So now I'm supposed to do it all by myself, yeah?"  
"No." The silly hangs in the air. "You still got Edmund." She drapes her shawl around her neck. "He can help you." She says with a smile before closing the door behind her.  
Peter stares after her.  
He sighs defeated but goes back into the kitchen, stirring the paint.

As he walks back into the living room he catches sight of Edmund laying the newspapers meticulously over the floor. They had already moved out all the furniture the other day, so Peter simply puts the paint bucket on the floor once Edmund has finished.  
Edmund comes over to stand next to Peter, handing him a brush, his gaze hefted to the wall. Peter takes it, their hands touching. Edmunds only reaction is to lift up the paint bucket and placing it nearer to the wall. He dunks the brush into the paint and they begin to work.  
Together.

It isn't exactly hard work, just really fucking exhausting. Edmund's arms are getting sore from the ever repeating movements, even after Peter brought him a ladder for easier access to the upper parts. Both their clothes are littered with specks, as are their feet. They had discarded their shoes along with their socks earlier in the forethought of not ruining them. They couldn't afford another pair; unlike the ratty shirts and pants they are wearing.  
Peter's has a big hole on the front near his hipbone. Not to mention that the shirt is at least three sizes too small, riding up with Peters every movement. Edmund's pants have quite the same problem, being short and too tight for him, he feels it every time he crouches down.  
After finishing the first two walls they take a break consisting of tea and biscuits.  
Peters hair is awfully dishevelled from his always going through them with his fingers. His fingers that seem so restless today, always snaking along the wall and over Peters own body, fingering the hole in his shirt. Just like they're doing right now. When Edmund looks up he stares into Peter's eyes.  
He holds their gaze.

It's getting late afternoon by the time they're finishing up and no matter how ambitious Peter might be, Edmund is not going to lift his arm one single more time today. He demonstrates this by going a few steps backwards, halting next to Peter, who is attentively looking the wall over for any missed spots, and lying down. He's really just reclining on the crinkling paper, closing his eyes and being done for today. He hears rustling again as Peter lies down as well, they're not touching but Edmund imagines he can feel Peter's body heat any ways. Warm and safe next to him.

Edmund opens his eyes and looks to his left. Peter's eyes are already open and he looks back. They're just looking. Edmund's eyes roaming over Peter's face, just to get stuck at his eyes again.  
And Peter reaches out then and Edmund takes his hand, holding it. Feeling it. The callouses, the warmth, the nail on his thumb.  
Peter moves on top of him. Slowly and cautious. And they're just looking. And they're just holding hands.  
Edmund closes his eyes then because he's afraid he'll cry otherwise and he almost does when he feels Peter's kiss. So soft and careful. A kiss he had not known before. He opens his eyes then and Peters stay closed. Edmund uses his free hand to guide him down again. And Edmund kisses him. Soft and careful.  
This time they both open their eyes and they're both frightened because this is so new again. Edmund's pulse is racing and their hands are a bit sweaty. Peter sits back on his heels, letting go of Edmund's hand only in the last possible moment. He pulls his shirt over his head, his gaze steady on Edmund. Edmund mirrors him, sits up with Peter between his legs, takes off his shirt. They look at each other for a moment and Peter finds his way to Edmund's pants, he opens the button and Edmund's own hands start to glide over Peter's arms and shoulders. He can tell Peter is nervous, his hands are shaking where they always used to be steady and strong, so he cups his face and kisses him again. This time, though, the way he remembers: hungry and sure.  
Peter instantly grabs him around the waist, kissing him back with just as much fervour. Edmund's hands wandering into Peter's hair, Peter's wandering to Edmund's back, pulling him closer and onto his lap. Peter's right hand then dips into Edmund's pants, grabbing his ass. Edmund bucks forward, moans, Peter's lips attaching themselves to his chin. His left hand joining his right. Their kisses transforming into open-mouthed pants, Edmund clinging to Peter and Peter kissing along Edmund's neck and shoulder, as they're just rutting into each other.  
Edmund wants to beg for more but Peter must already know because the next thing Edmund knows is Peter pushing him to the floor again. In one practised motion he pulls down Edmund's pants and briefs, sliding them leg from leg from his body. Edmund strokes himself, legs spread as he waits for Peter to lose his own pants and to slide back to his place between Edmund's thighs. Peter hurries, his gaze not leaving Edmund's moving hand. He crawls back on top of him, angling his face for another kiss but as soon as Peter's hand finds them both they only moan into each other's skin.

Edmund's hands run over every inch they can reach. It's an impossible bliss but he can't help but to still want more, even more than this. Before he can say something there is already a wet finger touching his hole. Involuntarily, he stills. So does Peter as he moves his head up to look into Edmund's eyes. Edmund watches him, they're both breathing heavily through their noses. He nods slowly. Peters hand that was a second ago busy with their cocks comes up and strokes Edmund's dark strands from his forehead before he kisses him. Soft and careful. It tastes like promise and Edmund shivers in anticipation.  
He spreads his legs further and presses his ass down towards Peter's finger and by their next touch they lock eyes again, unreadable. Peter slides further down Edmund's body, trailing kisses. Edmund can't decide what drives him more crazy; the way Peter nibs and sucks at his inner thigh instead of his cock or the finger circling and prodding his hole. He almost yelps when Peter takes him down in one go while simultaneously sliding his finger in. Edmund's hands fly into Peters hair, now dishevelled beyond any repair. The obscene noises Peter strings from Edmund's body make his whole being burn up.  
Peter has three fingers up in him now and he is more than ready so he tugs hard on Peters hair, forcing him to release his spit-wet cock and look up. His eyes mirror Edmund's challenge as he forcefully drives in a fourth finger. Edmund's thighs tense up, more in pleasure than pain (he thinks), relaxing again when Peter pulls his fingers out and aligns his cock instead. Edmund props himself up on his elbow, his free arm grabbing support on Peters shoulder. They're both focused completely on the place where they will be connected once more. Peter presses in and Edmund digs hard into Peters shoulder. Peter releases a guttural moan and Edmund can't help himself but pushes them both up to sit on Peters lap, taking him all the way in.  
For a few seconds neither of them move, instead they're just breathing and half-heartedly kissing each other. The feeling too overwhelming.  
It's Edmund who pushes them back into action. Moving slowly, deliberately. Their arms sliding around each others bodies, more embrace than just the need to hold onto each other. Peters skin is so agonizingly warm all over Edmund, the warmth he had craved so desperately these last years. He buries his nose deeper into Peters hair, inhaling him, memorizing him once more. He removes his face again to look into Peter's eyes, not questioning just a steady glance. They kiss and Edmund starts to ride Peter harder, his own cock rubbing unsatisfactorily along Peters stomach.  
Peter then grabs Edmund's ass. Hard. Tipping them over so that Edmund is again on his back. Peter strokes Edmund's cock three, four times before he aligns himself better in this new position and now really starts to pound into Edmund.  
The newspaper under them rustles and moves, sliding along with their movements. Edmund claws at Peters back and his arms, rocking up into the rhythm, his feet intermittently sliding along Peters calves.  
He touches his own cock now and Peter's thrusts get more disruptive. They're both so close and then Peter hits something inside him just right and Edmund comes shouting his brothers name. Peter tenses up and releases himself inside of Edmund, collapsing halfway over him.

Their breathing is still going hard when Edmund finally crumbles, erupting in mute sobs. His heaving chest alerts Peter, who, still inside him, moves his head up and strokes Edmund's face.  
"Peter" he wails.  
"Edmund" he answers. Tears forming in his eyes as well.  
It's the same pain they're feeling. Edmund understands this now.


End file.
